


hit and miss

by MsCFH



Series: Winter Writing Prompts [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCFH/pseuds/MsCFH
Summary: Prompt Fill."I’m having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and I hit you instead."
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Series: Winter Writing Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637428
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	hit and miss

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes, this is unbeta'd.

Snow in King’s Landing was something that happened about once a decade and Jeyne had dragged her outside, when Sansa had been barely awake, still confused about the first glance out the window and the sight of tree branches covered in delicate layers of snow.

Her best friend had gotten her to leave her room behind under the pretence of watching and making fun of “Southerners failing at handling the cold”, but, as old habits died hard, it taken less than thirty minutes of trudging through the thin layer of snow until the first snowball had been flung in Sansa’s direction.

Despite Sansa’s less than enthusiastic mood going into this walk, she had ended up having a great deal of fun.

Jeyne was as relentless and precise in firing heaps of snow her way at the age of twenty, as she had been as an eight year old. Sansa herself had never been particular good with aiming, especially not when moving around, but growing up with four brothers -and Arya-, she had perfectionated ducking out just in time.

They found themselves in a mess of giggling, shrieking, tousled hair and ice cold fingers; one that came to an abrupt hold when the shriek that followed one of Sansa’s uncoordinated throws was most definitely not Jeyne’s.

Sansa covered her mouth with her hands when she spotted the woman, only a few metres away, wiping a lawyer of snow from her face and hair, quietly cursing as she did so.

“Oh my Gods,” Sansa exclaimed, brushing remaining snow off her coat and made her way to her accidental victim. “Are you okay? I am _so_ —”

She recognized Margaery only when it was too late, too late to hide out, most definitely too late to run in the other direction; she’d spotted her too.

“—sorry,” she ended her sentences quietly, coming into a stop in front of her.

Margaery looked at her through eyes smudged with mascara, brushing a remaining snow out of a clearly ruined hair style.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa repeated. “I was aiming at my friend …” She broke off and vaguely waved a hand in Jeyne’s direction.

“And you clearly need to work on your aim?”

Sansa sighed. “Clearly.” She pulled a tissue from her coat pocket handing it to Margaery. “I’m really sorry.”

Margaery gave her a half smile when taking the tissue and running it over her face. “All that apologizing has me thinking you might have done this on purpose.” She fished her phone out of the purse she was carrying and gave herself a quick look with the front camera. “Shit.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Those words earned Sansa an exasperated glance, while she did her best to fix smudged make-up. “I have an interview in thirty minutes.”

Sansa made a face. “In that case it is bad.”

To her relief Margaery saved any words of blame, but nervousness grew in her features as she took a look on her watch.

“Everything okay?” Sansa flinched at the sound of Jeyne’s voice. Her best friend had not exactly snuck up on them, but Sansa had been so very preoccupied with this involuntary run-in to Margaery she had not noticed her approaching.

“Not exactly,” Margaery breathed with another glance to her watch. “I… have no time to fix this.” She gestured towards her face.

“You know,” Jeyne started out, and only by her tone Sansa knew to brace herself for whatever was coming. “Sansa here, lives _just_ up the street. You could freshen up there.”

Brown eyes regained a spark of hope as they darted ever so briefly to Jeyne and then settled on Sansa with hesitance. “Would that be okay?”

No, it most definitely wouldn’t be.

Sansa denied herself the urge to send a murderous glance in her best friends direction.

Jeyne wasn’t to blame here. Her state of knowledge was that Sansa had an all embracing crush on the brunette from her class. Her friend probably thought she did her a huge favour, giving her an excuse to take her back to her dorm room and that was Sansa’s own fault. If Jeyne _knew,_ if Sansa had told her about what had happened, she’d never made the suggestion in the first place; or look between them with that cocky smile.

In the end, all that Sansa could do was nod. There really wasn’t much of an alternative. When responsible for ruining a girl’s appearance, you could not exactly deny her help.

Decisive to do as much damage control as still possible -meaning not giving her friend a chance to speak another word- Sansa made a gesture towards the building on the other side of the park. “Let’s go.”

That Jeyne -ever so conveniently- remembered a class she had to attend, was a fortune and unfortune for Sansa at the same time.

Her and Margaery walked to her dorm building in silence. It was a good ten minute walk away, but Sansa picked up a speed that aimed for cutting time in half. One that Margarey went along with her pace effortlessly; maybe she appreciated cutting the awkwardness short, maybe being in a rush she did not have time to waste on small talk.

Only when they were already inside the building, in front of her door; Sansa fidgeting with her keys Margaery broke the silence eventually.

“So how have you been?”

“Good.” Sansa lied through a tight smile.

“Good.”

Sansa hated how her internalized politeness would forever win out over her need of not having to do small talk. “And you?”

“I’m fine.” Any other day Margaery’s smile could light up a room, always so genuine and heartfelt; that forced look of ease on her face today was barely enough to spark a candle. “I haven’t seen a lot of you lately.”

“No, I just came back from Winterfell this week.”

“So you did end up going home for the holidays.” Margaery looked sincerely happy to hear so.

“I did.”

“And you had a good time?”

“I did.” Sansa turned the key in the lock and the awkwardness of about to be alone with Margaery in her room caught up with her; this time she felt the need to fill the silence. “What did you do for the holidays?”

“I stayed in town,” Margaery returned.

“All by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“And your family?”

“Loras was with his boyfriend’s family for the holidays. And my parents decided to escape this cold spell by going on a cruise. They invited me to come, but the idea of my dad doing karaoke in his speedos on the pool deck…” Margaery made a face.

Sansa chuckled at the mental image and Margaery shot her a dazzling smile, as if hearing her laugh was all she had waited for; the soft smile lasted still as Margaery stepped past her into the room.

Margaery took a subtle glance around the room, while she worked on detangling her scarf and unzipping her coat. With the door closed behind her, Sansa was for a moment at a loss what to do; sincerely forgot how she normally behaved in her own room.

She cleared her throat, when she caught Margaery watching her. “So, where is the interview?”

“Lannister LLP.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and her hands dropped from working the buttons of her coat. “Seriously?”

Margaery gave her trademark lopsided smirk, evidently not at all surprised with her reaction. “I take it that’s not admiration talking.”

“Not exactly.” It came out sounding harsh and wrong, and she corrected herself. “I mean, it is impressive that you got an interview.”

From what she had heard, getting a foot in the door with Lannister LLP was sheer impossible even for bar certified lawyers with several years of experience under their belt. The general assumption was that they did not even consider law students for internships.

“But?” Margaery probed, looking gently amused.

“Why in the world would you want to work for Cersei Lannister?”

Their shared dislike over their professor for family law was one of the first things that had them bonding. Cersei Lannister was known for being controversial in her approaches, merciless with her students and deadly with opponents in any courtroom.

Sansa for the most part stuck to rolling her eyes in class and complaining about the professor after. Margaery on the other hand was known to outright challenge Cersei Lannister in almost every single class; something that had the professor seething and her fellow students profoundly entertained.

Margaery shrugged, while unbuttoning her coat. “She is a raging bitch, but she’s also the best in her field and I do aim at getting into family law.”

Slipping out of her coat Margaery made a sound of dismay when discovering that a good deal of snow had stained and damped her blouse. She rubbed her hand over the spots, that would doubtlessly dry with time, but not in time or in a way that would have her presentable to face the sceptical eyes of Cersei Lannister.

For the first time Margaery looked at Sansa with a hint of blame. “Gee, when you make a mess you do so properly, don’t you?”

She seemed to realize the implication of her words as soon as she said them, regret coming into her features, while Sansa looked at her for a long moment in dire silence.

Without a reply Sansa spun around to her closet then, and started to push hangers back and forth. Trying to get her hands on the white silken blouse she’d worn only worn for her aunt’s birthday took her just long enough to get herself back under control.

She spun around again, her face merged into relaxed neutrality and held the piece of clothing out to Margaery. The sense of regret had not left Margaery’s features altogether, but still being pressed for time, her eyes left Sansa and went over the fabric. It was more fashionable chic than the clean business look Margaery had going on with her black pantsuit, but it still could work.

Sansa pointed to the door behind herself. “The bathroom is right here. Help yourself to towels, hair dryer… whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

Their fingers brushed when Margaery took the hanger out of her hand, leaving Sansa’s skin burning even when the bathroom door had closed behind Margaery. Sansa released a breath and pulled off her own coat, dumping it over her desk chair.

She sunk down on her bed and stared at the closed door. From inside the bathroom she could hear water running, the sound of the hair dryer turning on a moment later.

A month ago the prospect of having Margaery in her room would have thrilled her. In fact she’d tried on several occasions coming up with an excuse that would bring them back here. This particular reality did not live up to how she’d planned for this moment to go.

It was a mess. And the worst thing was that she did not have anyone but herself to blame for that; and not just her lack of aim when she’d thrown that snowball today.

Not that it mattered; there was nothing she could do what had happened.

And Margaery… she would be out of here in a matter of minutes and then Sansa would get a new chance at her plan to avoid her; at least until the thought of her did not feel like it was tearing her apart from the inside anymore.

Margaery finished whatever she had been doing in the bathroom in record time and emerged in a cloud of flowery smell, with her hair fixed, her make up freshened up. She had Sansa’s blouse tucked into her pants and it complementing her figure a great deal better than Sansa had expected. Distractingly so.

“What do you think?” Margaery asked, making a half spin in front of her. “Good enough for the she-devil?”

Sansa couldn’t contain her smile looking up at her. And for once today she didn’t hold back in looking at her. If she’d deprive herself of seeing her again any time soon, she wanted to soak her image up now.

She looked so beautiful. If possible not seeing her in three and a half weeks seemed to have made her even more gorgeous.

It was being so very caught up by her appearance, that had Sansa’s mouth work faster than her mind. “ _Way_ too good.”

The way Margaery smiled, almost shyly, -Gods, was _Margaery Tyrell_ blushing?- and tucked a curl behind her ear did not make the fluttering in Sansa’s stomach any better.

In her very last attempt to push that away, Sansa reached for Margaery’s coat next to her on the bed and held it out to her, forcing a smile. “You will have to hurry, if you still want to make it in time.”

The law firm was a good ten minute walk away, and if Sansa’s calculation was correct Margaery only had about thirteen left.

Sansa ignored the way Margaery’s smile dimmed; along with the way her skin tingled after soft fingers had grazed over her own when taking the coat.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa managed a small smile. She had missed hearing the way Margaery said her name.

_Damn it._

She had missed Margaery. Way more than was good for her.

“It was the least I could do.”

Even with the coat hanging around her shoulders and her purse in her hand, Margaery didn’t move. The conflict in her features was ever so evident and it reminded Sansa of the expression she got when considering an important ethical question in class.

Her dilemma here was an obvious one, she was running short on time, but also did not want to leave things as awkward as they were.

“I would like to thank you properly,” Margaery told her with another one of those untypical shy smiles. “Do you have time for a coffee later?”

Sansa would have loved to have a coffee with her; hear all about how the interview went and what she had been up to in the past weeks. She wanted to go back to spending time with her, to laughing with her. But because she wanted to so much, she couldn’t.

“Today’s really not a good day.” The moment she said it she knew she had worded it wrong.

“Tomorrow then?” Margaery smiled at her hopeful.

Sansa shook her head and opened her mouth to come up with another excuse, but Margaery interrupted her, taking a step towards her.

“I would love a chance for us to talk. I owe you an explanation.”

The ache in her chest, that Sansa had suppressed so very well, flared up like a wildfire.

The fact was she owed her several explanations; only Sansa was afraid to hear them.

“I need some time,” Sansa gave back firmly, even when she hated to be the reason for Margaery’s face to crumble in disappointment.

Maybe with some time, thinking about her would become bearable again. And then looking at her would not cause her heart to speed up anymore and send that mixture out of pain and endorphins straight through her chest.

She could only hope for that; for things going back to normal.

She wanted that. Wanted to forget all that had happened and just have things go back to normal.

She _needed_ to forget what kissing her had felt like.

Above all, she needed to forget the humiliation she’d felt when Margaery had pushed her away gently; telling her she had a girlfriend.

“I understand,” Margaery said with a quick nod. “I really do.”

Much to Sansa’s dismay she didn’t move away though, but only came another step closer.

“Just… one more thing -and I understand if that doesn’t sway your decision or your need for time- but… I broke up with… me and …” She took a deep breath, regaining some firmness to her voice. “I am single now.”

Her eyes tore themselves away from studying the pattern of the carpet, looking up into Margaery’s.

Sansa frowned, sincerely thinking she had misheard. “Excuse me?”

“For about three weeks and two days now actually,” Margaery added, daring to give her a small smile.

“Really?”

In the _three weeks and four days_ that had passed since their kiss Sansa had been so afraid of that everything leading up to it had just been in her head. That all the gentle smiles and the lingering touches, were nothing more than her own infatuation exaggerating Margaery being her friendly and affectionate self.

She had not dared to think that it wasn’t anymore.

Still didn’t trust the feeling entirely when Margaery sat next to her on the bed and reached for her hand.

“Really,” she confirmed, her thumb drawing gentle circles over the back of Sansa’s hand.

Warmth spread through her entire body as they sat there, holding hands, and Sansa found herself unable to hold back a smile; the fluttering returning to her stomach in the very best way when Margaery mirrored it.

“You’ll be late for your interview.”

Margaery didn’t move, but kept on holding her hand and smiling. “I’d make a lousy lawyer if I couldn’t come up with an excuse for that.”


End file.
